Playing Games
by ThatsNotAName
Summary: The Glee Club end up at a college frat party. Brittany doesnt like people touching what's hers. SMUT.


**Okay, hey guys. I know I'm meant to be working on The Best of Me, actually theres a crapload of things I'm _meant_ to be working on, but trust me, I'm getting there. Just a little stuck. Anyway, this short thing just sprung up in my head when I was messing around on my laptop. I don't know if there are any mistakes. I hope not. Enjoy (:**

Brittany's seen people flirt with Santana before. Plenty of times. It always made her teeth grit, even before the pair found themselves falling for the other. But why couldn't Santana have a guy flirt with her? After all, it's not like _Santana_ was the one with the boyfriend. Brittany was. And yet, she could never stop that green eyed feeling clawing its way through her.

This was worse than usual though. This time it wasn't Puck, or the Jock boys, or Santana's older brother's friends that was doing the flirting. This time it wasn't even a _guy._ How is it that the Glee Club happened to stumble on what was probably the only other lesbian –bar a closeted Santana- in Lima, Ohio? _Well,_ Brittany thought cruelly to herself, _it's not like I didn't know how gay Show Choir is._ Brittany could always slightly contain herself watching guys constantly flirting with her best friend, because she knew that as much as Santana pretended to, she never actually liked the boys back. Everyone knew she didn't, you could tell by the dead glaze in her eyes.

Santana's worse kept secret: she was gay. Like, raging gay. Maybe not plaid and flannel gay (because like hell would she wear anything that reminded her of how small town she actually is) but gay enough to have a mental ranking of all the Cheerios with the best legs. Brittany was at the top but it's not like that's a secret either.

So here Brittany was, sitting in Artie's lap as he wheeled around all giddy and triumphant. The rest of the Club was doing the same, all high off cheap tequila, loud music and a surrounding of strangers, friends and their makeshift family. This was a college party, Dante had let them come. Because while his sister acted like she hated them all (even Brittany, at the moment), there was going to be a time that Santana would _need_ the Glee Club. And he knew that this mismatched group would be there to pick up her broken pieces.

Who knew that an hour into this thing they'd all be sitting there listening as this girl, _Sasha_, laughs with her friends about how they were in high school Show Choir too. It should've been a sign then that Brittany should be worried. But she hardly noticed past the girl's dark black hair and charming smile. She's got a thing for dark hair, okay?

Well, it turns out Sasha does too. Because an hour after that she's close to Santana's ear as they lean sideways against a wall. And Brittany can't tell what their saying over the music and distance but she can tell it isn't good when Santana's eyes aren't dead. It really isn't good when Santana nods with a smile and lets this older girl take her hand and lead them off to dance.

Brittany hates it because dancing is _her_ thing. People think it's the only thing she's good at (it's not) and that dancing is what she loves most in the world. That's not true either. The reason dancing is her favourite is because of the way Santana reacts to it. Her hands gripping hips, lower lip caught in her teeth, and face down because Santana loves to watch how their bodies move together.

"Hey babe, you okay?" a smooth voice echoes in her ear. Effectively snapping Brittany from her stupor. She looks down at the sweet smile on Artie's face, it makes her feel sad when it doesn't draw her in like it should. Like full, rosy lips and perfect teeth do. And it isn't really fair on any of them but it's what she chose so she smiles back.

"Not drunk enough, I think" Brittany says truthfully. She's a little tired of lying. So she opts for something that isn't really a lie. She's too sober to watch someone with Santana.

"Well that's easily solved" Puck's deep voice sounds beside them. He's got Rachel under his arm, a stack of plastic cups in one hand and a bottle of something clear and strong in the other. They all plonk down on the floor in a circle. Puck filling each cup and handing them around. Brittany drinks hers fast then stares down at the empty plastic in her hands until someone refills it for her.

It isn't long before the circle extends to accommodate Dante, Quinn and later Sam. Dante's always been the open, friendly one in the Lopez home and Brittany, Puck and Quinn have always loved being around him ever since they were tiny, snot nosed, sticky-fingered kids. Only Brittany knows that this is what Santana is really like, though no one can see it under the fear. Everybody thinks that Dante should really hate Puckerman for the amount of times he's slept with his little sister. He doesn't. He knows that if Santana wanted to use Noah, then she was bloody well going to.

Brittany thinks Dante should hate _her_, because she's slept with Santana more times than Puck and Santana actually _loves_ her. He doesn't hate her either though. Just smiles sadly when Brittany continues to chug down her drinks.

They're all talking and Brittany isn't really listening until Artie lets out a low "_Damn_". She notices his eyes locked on some scene behind her. Brittany glances around the circle, noting that Sam is open mouthed and Rachel's eyebrows are sky high. The others in the group just stare so intently at her, she isn't sure why but it feels like this is a silent warning that Brittany don't turn around.

She does anyway and regrets it instantly. Sasha's got her front pressed up against Santana's back, thumbs looped slightly under the waistband of Santana's denim shorts. They're facing them (accidentally, she hopes), and grinding so sensually while Sasha places wet kisses on the Latina's exposed neck and shoulder. Santana's got her eyes closed, head tilted back to offer more skin and one hand threaded through Sasha's dark hair, keeping the girl's mouth to her skin.

It's the worst thing Brittany has ever seen in her life. She can't deny that they look hot, _so hot_. Brittany suddenly couldn't drink another drop without wanting to hurl her guts all over the floor. So she puts her cup down. But the sick feeling is still there and as if sensing her gaze, Santana finally opens her eyes and locks them with Brittany. Santana's eyes are blazing, burning with a look Brittany doesn't want to see. Because she _knows_ that look. She _knows_ what Santana's every facial expression is. And she knows that Santana is _really _liking this.

Santana raises a perfect eyebrow. It's a challenge. And suddenly Quinn's hand is holding her arm and Puck is pleading so quietly in her ear "Britt, come on, just turn back around" because they can see it too. They see that Santana has her trapped between staying with her boyfriend and claiming the girl she loves. It's a trap that everyone knew she'd fall into. _Jump into,_ it seems. Especially when Santana reaches for Sasha's wrist and pushes her hand lower than Brittany can handle.

That's when she jumps up, shaking off Quinn's hold and Puck's regretful sigh. Barely listening as Dante expertly strikes up a conversation with Artie about Halo. He's distracting him, she's sure, but she won't tear her sight away from Santana to check if it worked. She's stalking closer to them, noticing the smirk on Santana's lips, spreading uncontrollable anger through her veins. Brittany's not usually one for confrontation but if Santana wants her to fight, then there's really nothing she can do but fight.

She's a few feet away when Sasha notices her, sending a playful wink that proves she really doesn't know what she got herself into. Brittany almost feels sorry for her; however it's hard to do that when she's got a clearer view of this woman's hands all over her girl. And she definitely no longer feels sorry when Sasha says "Hey Blondie, how you going?" from over Santana's shoulder.

Brittany's eyes are raging; she rips Santana from the other girls hold, clutching her flush against her front as she snarls "Stop touching her! She's _mine_". Words have never fallen so bitterly from her tongue. She can see the shock on the older girls face, as well as feel Santana's shock too as she utters a small moan. Brittany doesn't give anyone time to react before she's yanking Santana away and out the front door.

She hardly gets five feet away when she realises she needs Santana _now._ The Lopez house isn't anywhere near here and her house is a good 45minute walk. It's too long and there's no chance she'll be able to wait for a taxi. She does the only thing she can think of and tugs Santana to a secluded area between the house and the fence where it's all trees on one side and the street on the other. Not that anyone would be able to see them with it being as dark as it is.

"Damn Britt, that was hot back there" Santana says and Brittany can hear the smirk in her voice. Santana's smug that she has this hold on her but Britt's still too angry to joke with her. Instead, Brittany pushes her up against the side of the house, leaning with both hands on either side of her head and staring down as Santana lets out this surprised little yelp.

"You had fun with your little games then, Santana?" Brittany snarls. She feels the smaller body bristle against her tone.

"What games? I can dance with another girl if I like" she replies cockily.

"So you liked it? You liked that it was her hands all over you?" Brittany growls into her ear. Santana shivers and it's not from the words or the outside cold, but from the way Brittany's fingers trace her skin when she says 'hands all over you'.

Santana tries to shrug nonchalantly. It doesn't quite work and then Brittany has a hold of her wrists and is pulling them up over her head. Locking them with one hand so now she's the one that's trapped.

"What about this?" Brittany asks, her free hand teasing Santana "Do you like _my_ hands all over you?"

Santana holds back and whimper and almost says 'Yes, always' but doesn't want to give the blonde the satisfaction. Santana's never good at being a submissive and that's another thing that Brittany just _knows._

"Did you wish it was me moving up behind you?" the blonde presses her body flush against Santana's. Slipping her thigh in between Santana's to imitate the slow sensual grinding.

"Did you wish it was my mouth sucking along your skin?" she says this as her teeth drag almost painfully across the same skin Sasha had her mouth on. Brittany's tongue then soothing over the same area.

"Did you wish it was me whispering things in your ear? What did she say, San? She wants you to fuck her?" Brittany demands in that same sexy low tone she's been using for the last ten minutes. Santana shakes her head pathetically, hands struggling to get free, jaw clenched to stop from crying out.

"No? What, then? That _she_ wants to fuck _you?_" Brittany laughs humourlessly. "You really think she could even fuck you half as good as me?"

Santana stays quiet. It's Brittany's turn to smirk now as she watches Santana battle with herself. The brunette has always been stubborn, and it makes Brittany want to see her give in even more.

"Well, San?" no sound but Santana's harsh breathing "Answer me" Brittany commands.

"_God_ Britt," Santana groans as her head falls back against the wall. She's so turned on right now and it's taking literally _everything_ she has not to show it.

Brittany chuckles. "Is that what you scream when you're in your bed at night? Do you wish it was my fingers inside you instead? Do you wish it was me filling you just how you like it?"

She knows she's being ruthless but it doesn't matter when Santana relents, not being able to stop herself from using Brittany's well-placed thigh to ease some friction. Brittany clicks her tongue disappointedly, removing her thigh and cutting off all contact to the lower half of their bodies.

Santana grunts in frustration. Brittany almost wants to smile and say 'That's my girl' but she has a lesson to teach here. Besides, teasing Santana turns out to be more fun then she expected.

"Not liking the games now, are we Santana?" Brittany says and it's mocking. She's deliberately working the girl up so that when she falls it's willing, and in surrender, and _hard._

It would be so easy to break her now if she wanted. Though, just as she's about to an idea forms in her head. It's a cruel idea really, something she knows will just drive Santana mad. But it's so enticing and when is she going to get an opportunity like this again?

Tightening her grip on Santana's wrists, she wedges her leg in where the joint of the girl's knee is. This position would prevent Santana from rocking against her thigh again, but also bar her from being able to clench her thighs shut. Santana's gaze is on her, there is lust there and also a concerned curiosity. Santana knows Brittany just as well as Brittany knows her, so she could easily see the devilish contemplation on the taller girls face. It was just a matter of waiting to see what Brittany's next move was.

When Santana sees what it is, her breath catches ragged in her throat. With one hand, Brittany undoes the button and zip on her own ridiculously short shorts and slides her hand into her own panties. Gasping at the wetness she finds there. Santana squirms uncontrollably but Brittany is stronger and won't let her go. She's aching, literally _aching_ to be touched and it isn't fair that Brittany is stopping her from release _and_ making her watch as she gets herself off.

"Fuck" Brittany moans as her fingers make light work of her clit. Her eyes are half-lidded when she looks at Santana. Her counterpart almost looks in pain but she needs to hear it.

"So good, Santana. This feels so good" Brittany utters, her body moving with her fingers now. Santana whimpers and Brittany can feel that she's almost got her. The blonde moves closer, her breath on Santana's ear, she swipes the lope with her tongue and nibbles "It would feel so much better if it were you"

Finally, Santana gives in. "Brittany please!"

Brittany removes her hand from her pants and sucks on her fingers "What is it, San?"

"Damn B, I just- I need you to fuck me. _Please just fuck me_" Santana almost shouts

Brittany lets go of her wrists so she can rip off Santana's shorts and pull her up by the back of her thighs so her legs are wrapped around her waist. She doesn't need to comment on how wet she is because they can both feel it as her core slips against the skin of Brittany's stomach. Santana's grinding on her body like a mad woman so Brittany moves her hand between her thighs and plunges two fingers deep.

Santana moans loud and Brittany has to swallow it so nobody will come out here looking for them. It doesn't really take long, not after the teasing. Santana has her hands on Brittany's shoulders using it as leverage so she can ride lithe fingers. Brittany manages to press the pad of her thumb flat against her clit and then Santana is shaking. Waves washing through her and a deep groan reverberating in her throat.

But Brittany hasn't stopped yet, she's still pumping into her fast and curling her fingers every few strokes to hit that spot. Santana is turned on even more and she isn't sure if Brittany had predicted that would happen. She probably did.

"Fuck, baby. _Hard_" Santana's words always seem to get choppy in moments like this.

Brittany lets out a deep breath "_So_ hard" and with that she adds another finger.

Santana feels that Brittany deserves a few coherent sentences after all the work she's been putting in to work her up. So she admits to everything the blonde asks her.

"Nobody ever fucks me as good as you do. I always wish and pretend that it's –_oh God_- you anyway. Especially at night when I'm alone. And –fuck, _Brittany_- when I'm clenching I close my eyes and pretend it's you. It's been weeks!" she screams the last bit as she tumbles over the edge, her walls clenching just as tight as Brittany remembers.

Blue eyes take in the girl before her, all sweaty and heavy breathing, a slight smile on her exhausted features. She's yet to find something as beautiful as this. With a reverent tone she mutters "It's been too long"

Santana's eyes flutter back open and she nods in agreement. Brittany pecks her lips, lowing her feet to the ground and laying a whisper on her lips "I'm not finished yet" and drops to her knees.

Brittany's already licking up her slit before Santana even registers what's happening. Her nerves are sensitive and every touch feels like fire. With Brittany's lips away from her own, she doesn't know how quiet she can keep.

She threads her fingers through golden hair, a strangled moan tumbling from her lips when Brittany sucks on her. Those blue eyes catch her again, and it's halfway a warning to keep quiet and a plead to shout to the heavens. Santana manages to stay somewhere in between as she falls again, and then again with Brittany between her legs.

"Stop Britt, I can't. No more" she mumbles when Brittany goes for the fifth time. Her whole body is spent and tired. She doesn't think her legs are going to hold her up much longer.

But Brittany can't stop. She needs to have Santana wholly surrounded by her, so that she feels and breathes, and thinks, and knows nothing but _Brittany._ She needs it. And she needs to hear it.

"Tell me" she says while lifting Santana's leg to drape over her shoulder, placing her hands on her hips to steady her. The girl needs aid to keep standing so Brittany gave it to her.

When Santana's eyes lazily bore into her with confusion Brittany elaborates. "Tell me what you feel"

Santana nods but now she's caught up in Brittany's velvet tongue sliding in and out, it's not rough, fast or hard. It's smooth, calm, patient. The Latina knows that no one will ever look after her as tenderly as Brittany always does. So she needs to say this, she needs to tell her before she gets too caught up in the feeling again. And though she's already told her once, she has to let Brittany know that even if she chose someone else, this fact hasn't changed.

So when Santana feels herself teetering once again on the edge, she reaches a delicate hand to Brittany's face, where she caresses the soft skin there. Urging her girl to look up. There are no games anymore. There's nothing outside of them and this moment. And when she falls, she tells her;

"I love you"

xx

Santana is hardly conscious when Brittany pulls her underwear and shorts back up her body. The blonde fixes the girl's clothes and hair before rectifying herself. Then when she's finished making them somewhat presentable she lifts the sleeping girl into her arms, bridal style, and starts the walk home.

Brittany's body aches with exertion but there's no way she'd let herself drop Santana. She doesn't enter the house to say goodbye to anyone or explain where they're going. She makes a mental note that she needs to have a talk with Artie sometime tomorrow. But that can be dealt with later. Her heart thuds where Santana's head rests on her chest. She's glad it's a summer night and the Latina is too exhausted to be cold.

Sure, they're not tiny kids anymore, and there aren't any more snotty noses. But Brittany notes, with an innocent playfulness that she's _still_ sticky-fingered.


End file.
